If Tonight Is My Last
by Seosh
Summary: When she was a child she never dreamt that what she had now could have been attainable. And it was all thanks to her, an angel in disguise that brought her to where she was now. *Tiva in later chapters*
1. Part I

**A/N: **So I was listening to my songs on shuffle and this one popped on and I just knew I had to write about it. This will be a three-parter and it starts off with Ziva's first mission with Jenny and it basically follows her days in Mossad into the far future.

**Disclaimer: ***cough* no.

**If Tonight Is My Last**

.::.

If an angel came down to me,  
>asked what I would do differently,<br>I would say nothing, you see,  
>I have loved someone truly<p>

_-"If Tonight is My Last" by Laura Izibor_

.::.

I.A New Beginning

Not many people could truly claim that they'd lost their childhood, whether by the taint of blood or the abuse of a hand, but there was a few who could. And Ziva David was one of them.

There was not a single day that goes by that she regretted or wished things could have been different, that she could have stood proudly next to her classmates and say that she had a dream, and that she could reach it.

But she could not, and she will never have the chance to voice those words, which for some were meaningless and taken granted for, it was a freedom that had been stripped unfairly from her.

She would be lying if she denied that throughout the years from her phase into adolescence and then into adulthood she did not consider the thought of taking the easy way out. And that could definitely explain the tragic-bound destiny that she seemed to have adopted.

Time after time she searched endlessly for an answer, a reason, something to reassure her that this was happening to her because she deserved it. But one after another, the doors all slammed in her face and left her bruised and desperate; everywhere she sought refused to show any grief for a puzzled child just looking for an explanation.

The constant failure is what probably led her to Mossad. An institution that she now believed was the greatest of all mistakes she has ever made. And looking back she could justify and knew exactly why she did so though, it was an answer, but a shitty one at that, a cowardly one.

.::.

An angel.

Not exactly.

But Jenny Shepard was close enough to one. Well at least to her; she gave her a way out, one that guaranteed words of permanency and no slam of the door in her face. Before she recruited into Mossad her world still had some sort of vibrancy, a small but present promise that things may turn out her way. Mossad changed all that, instead it plunged her down to a world of black and red. She had to make a choice, side with evil or die. There was where her string of mistakes all began.

So when Jenny appeared before her on a mission in Europe, a kaleidoscope of colours beamed into her world, there was opportunity and she snatched at it like a starving beggar for the last can of food.

"So you're with Mossad?" the redhead sipped on her tea elegantly – almost queen-like, with the little finger and all.

"Yes."

"For how long now?"

"That is not important."

"Okay… I'm Jenny Shepard been in the business for quite awhile now and I love it." That surprised Ziva a little, it was odd, she was not used to this openness that the woman opposite her was demonstrating.

"Ziva."

"You can talk you know, there is nothing to hide here," a muffled chuckled invaded the cool air and the look that the redhead shot at her made something in Ziva relax, not completely, but it felt a hell lot better.

"You should watch your back more often."

"Yeh I agree, I've got to get use to that, huh? I used to depend on my partner to cover my six," the smile on the woman's face puzzled Ziva; she couldn't understand the line of thought this strange woman seemed to have.

"You should not be interdependent; you cannot trust anyone in this world." A pair of greenish-blue eyes squinted at the Israeli, almost in disbelief.

"Then how do you work with a team if you have no faith or trust in them?" the ceramic cup clinked against the mosaic table top.

"I work alone, it is simple."

"Well darling, you're going to have to learn, you're working with me now," again the woman flashed her pearly whites, Ziva didn't bother to answer, it was not necessary, "okay, I get it. Our lives are completely different, polar opposites maybe, but come on we're in the same profession –"

The Israeli snorted, as if it was a complete absurd comment made by her new acquaintance, "We do not have the same profession."

"Okay, we're in a profession that associates with each other, my point is there must be something in common for our paths to meet, and I believe that's the love and desire for our jobs."

"I disagree." A monotonous voice replied, clearly not interested in the way this conversation had played out.

"If you could change your life, would you? Don't you do what you do to safe people and protect them?"

The answer was 'No' she didn't do it to save others but rather herself, from going insane. But there was no way that she was going to tell her that, she knew well enough what to say and what not to say so she wouldn't alienate people.

But the question that lingered in her head was one that she had asked herself many times before, and sometimes she did wonder what she'd be like if she had the chance to live a different life. On the contrary, the sacrifices and willpower that she had to muster has taught her many more valuable life lessons and gave her values and morals that she could not imagine not living by.

"Exactly my point, look Ziva I am your friend, not your enemy," the tea was drained from the cup and the redhead stood, her hand held out for a shake. Ziva took it cautiously and with a stoic face she gave a slight curtsey.

"Lighten up!" the woman pulled her in for a friendly hug, and she stiffened at the unfamiliar contact. The woman gave a bright smile and headed off, leaving behind a very shocked assassin unsure what to do or say.

But one thing that she was sure of was that maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all. She hadn't been assigned to work with a woman ever before, and she wished she had been earlier.

She really was an angel.

.::.

**A/N: **So there's the first part for ya! Drop a review as you leave, it'd be much appreciated


	2. Part II

**II. One Last Night**

.::.

If I had to give all that I own,

In return for the love that's grown,

I would give it gladly, 'cause nothing else compares,

To the moments that we shared.

_-"If Tonight is My Last" by Laura Izibor_

.::.

"_You're liaison position has been terminated."_

The words repeated over and over in her mind, each time hitting her harder than the previous and it made her feel like gagging out the non-existent contents of her stomach.

She'd made a life here in America for the past three years, and they were sending her back? Just like that?

The people around her, as much as she'd disliked saying, had grown on her. Even Tony. Especially Tony.

Of all things that she'd expected this rejection from, it would've never crossed her mind to be NCIS. They'd accepted her, had they not?

She wouldn't be surprised, not at all, if her father was the one who requested for her return. Whatever he was aiming at she'd already made up her mind, there was no way that she'd ever choose her life before to her life now. She could bet her life on that.

.::.

And yet again she failed to keep her word to herself. It was the middle of the night and she was as she guaranteed herself she wouldn't, packing her things, ready for shipment back to Israel. Her heart thumped incredibly slowly that she feared that her blood had stopped circulating completely. But the thought of returning to the land of her birth shook her and left her uncertain.

Her knees felt like giving out, the emotions of everything threatened to burst out of her, and it almost did. Until a knock came on the door and she bravely gathered her broken pieces and stuffed them back together, no matter the order, they'd just have to hold for a little longer.

She was surprised to see Tony when she opened the door, he was still in his sharp wrinkle-free black suit from the funeral earlier in the day, and she could tell he'd been crying, the redness of his eyes betrayed him.

"I thought DiNozzo men don't cry," she gave herself a slap on the head; it wasn't an appropriate joke. The hurt on his face made her feel like dropping to her knees and cry herself, but that wasn't her, she had never been one to display the results of her weaknesses. But the man that stood before her was different, he was real, he was there and she'd tripped time after time for him.

The creak of the wood beneath his shoes shook her back to reality, there was no way he was leaving without saying goodbye. And before she knew it she made a grab for his hand and she just managed to hook her fingers around his last finger as he turned. There were no words that were exchanged, they weren't necessary; their actions had always spoken more than anything else between them. It was clear she wanted him there; it would be most likely their last night together. Stuff the rules!

.::.

His familiar scent crept up her nose and it felt oddly comforting as it stirred her from her sleep, her body fired up at the sight of her partner next to her, and as she finally relaxed she studied his sleeping face. Her heart sunk, it felt like mammoths were tugging at her. What had she just done?

She'd created a bridge, one that she couldn't bear to possibly leave. And it didn't help at all that his arms were strung around her body, and his fingers, soft and warm interlocked with hers. Her head lay softly in the crook of his neck, and it felt all too normal, like she'd been his embrace thousands of times before. And it made it so much harder to pull away, to say no.

"You're hearts beating fast," a shiver ran up her spine as she averted her eyes from his face. Everything was so still that she could feel his eyes open like a gust of wind blowing in her face.

"Are you okay?" His voice was husky from sleep.

"It is all your fault." She let out in little gasps, trying desperately to keep her emotions under control.

"This is not a mistake, Ziva."

"It is! I am leaving tomorrow Tony! Do you not get it?" She should've pushed him away, but instead she buried her head deeper into him, frustrated at both him and herself.

"Then I'm sorry," she retreated and her deep brown orbs stared at him, "I'm sorry I didn't stand up to Vance."

"It is better that you did not."

"Why not? I've lost enough, we've lost enough! And I'm not going to lose you!" She took a deep breath; he was making it so damn hard. Why couldn't he just say ok and leave?

"No, Tony. You are just looking for something to hold on to, and I am not the one who you should hold onto."

"No, you're the one looking for an excuse; you've never ever stayed and not run, because you're afraid!" His words stung her, the stinging ache ran through her body and she had to admit, he was right. She had always ended up running, from pain and all the shit that posed a threat towards her.

"I have to go Tony, my orders are now in Israel, I am not running."

"You can say whatever you want," he untangled their bodies and rose out of the bed. And immediately his warmth and comfort left with him, and the cold that took his place made her feel so alone.

"This is for the best, Tony," Her words were unconvincing as she watched him fondle around for his shirt, "please stay."

"Whatever, you've made your choice Ziva."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He zipped up his slacks and she felt like pulling him back into bed with her, because it was true, she was the one that was looking for something to hold on to. His eyes were trained on her as he approached closer to the bed and she was almost fooled into thinking he would come back. But he leant over, his lips a mere inch from hers, teasing, and there was a pause before he kissed her lips tenderly, as if he was trying to remember it.

"Have a good flight," his voice was incredibly soft that under normal circumstances would've been what soft cushions were made of but instead it felt like the end of a knife.

And as she lay naked in her bed she watched the best thing in her life walk out, and in the midst of it all, however odd, Jenny's question reemerged and floated in her head. From all those years back, and of all things, it was like Jenny was mocking her.

"_If you could change your life, would you?"_

Maybe it was the guilt of leaving the question unanswered, and Jenny certainly deserved an answer and she hoped to god that Jenny was listening; because it was she who taught her to forget about the past and live her life trusting others around her.

"No, I would give everything to have this again."

.::.

She woke with a jolt, she must've been absolutely drained that her usually vigilant senses had not picked up the heat-radiating form next to her. To say the least she was surprised. What had changed his mind? She didn't really care, to be honest.

"I'll drive you to the airport." She jerked backwards as his grayish-green eyes slipped open and gazed at her, his hand gently laced around her waist.

.::.

**A/N: **Thanks for all that reviewed, love you guys . There's one more part to go!


	3. Part III

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait, here's the last part for y'all!

**III. Again**

.::.

"And if the rain ain't falling,  
>and the sun ain't shining,<br>It makes no difference to me,  
>I'm right where I wanna be."<p>

_-"If Tonight is my Last" by Laura Izibor_

.::.

To think that she'd actually managed to make it this far made it all seem like a dream. She could honestly say that the day Jenny asked her that one crucial question, she had changed, her mind opened to possibilities and opportunities she thought she had lost forever.

It really had been quite a journey, an interesting and a very long journey, filled with many ups and a lot more downs, but what she learnt from it all she'd never give anything to change.

Yes. She had trailed down the wrong path along the way, married a guy she thought could replace another, and it seemed like destiny or some higher power had already figured it all out. Tony was irreplaceable, she shouldn't have been so naïve to have even consider it, her move to Europe was idiotic, and once again a cowardly act. She ran, because that was what she was best at.

"Tea?" the china cup trembled as he lowered it to her.

"Toda." She took a sip from the cup and she couldn't help but notice the grey and white that had begun to creep up around the edges of his hair line; though he'd never admit to it.

"What ya thinkin' about?" he settled beside her on the swing in the front porch, the cool breeze blew through and she shivered at the chill that lingered on her skin. Very softly he pulled her towards him, his warmth enveloping her. She was right, no one could replace Tony.

"Your hair." Her infectious laugh cracked the air.

"Whatever are you talking about?" His voice saturated in sarcasm, "No. Really, what were you thinking about?'

"Uhhh…The past."

"You say it like you regret it."

"No, I do not regret any of it."

"So… the past –"

"It was one of my early missions I had in Europe, and it just reminded me of how far I've come." She flashed a genuine smile as she buried her head into his side.

"Is this the one with Jenny in it?"

"How do you know?" Her head shot up to level with his face.

"Well sweetcheeks, it's a great thing you don't snore anymore but you do tend to speak every so often," his eyes glistened against the setting sun as he gazed at her.

"Really?" he made a low noise from the depths of his throat, "Well, Jenny asked me a question when we first officially met, and I never answered her, I mean, eventually I did. Actually, it was the night of her funeral."

"What did she ask you?"

"If I had the chance would I change my life –"

"Would you?"

"Back then? My answer was yes, but now? No."

"I think I remember that night." Her eyes widened the puzzle pieces began to close in together and it all seemed so clear that she could feel her cheeks fire up in embarrassment.

"I always wondered what made you stay."

"To be honest, I thought you were talking to me –"

"I was talking about you," a smile crept onto her face, "I think that calculates for something." She looked at him quizzically as he muffled a low chuckle.

"What?"

"After all these years, you still can't get your idioms right –"

"Calculate is not right?"

"No, it's count for something, not calculate."

"Same difference."

"Very true."

It sometimes amazed her, how simple their conversations really were. She wondered how he never grew tired of her mistakes, and how each time he looked at her with more adoration than before. She just couldn't wrap her mind around his understanding and patience; she swore if she were in his position she'd probably have ended up shredding herself to pieces over frustration by now.

"You're looking at me weird again."

"Tony?"

"Uh oh, you've got that voice again –"

"Tony."

"Yeh?"

"Promise me something? Please?"

"Anything."

"You sure about that? I could really humiliate you if I wanted to."

"But you won't." He smiled his charming smile.

"How are you so sure?"

"Because I know you, but please because I said that, don't humiliate me."

"No, I won't –"

"See!"

"Tony! Can I please get to the point?" He sat silently, his eyes fully concentrated on her.

"Promise me no matter if it is day or night, or if it's raining or snowing, anything, that'd you'll be by my side until –"

"Promise. Guaranteed. You can bet my life I'll be there," he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips; he placed a soft feather-like kiss onto her fingers, one by one.

Something flickered through her eyes and he knew what was going to happen, and it broke his heart that a strong woman like her had been tainted with such a disease. She did not deserve it. But maybe it was exactly what she needed to forget her terrible past and really be free from all her worries.

"Who are you?" her deep brown eyes stared at him fondly, but the uncertainty still lay present in her eyes.

"I'm your husband sweetcheeks." A tear trailed down his cheek.

"Tony?"

"Yeh, it's me."

"I don't remember… something…" the sudden panic that shot through her eyes tore at his heart and he pulled her to his chest, as if hugging her would somehow bring back her memory.

"What were you thinking about?" Pause.

"Your hair."

"Whatever are you talking about?" The same sarcasm rang in his voice like before, but this time followed with her melodious laughter. He watched her throw her head back just like she always did.

_I promise I'll be right by your side._

_You can count on it. Over and over._

.::.

**A/N:** You probably never saw that coming at all did you? So, no, Tony was not a psychic and didn't have a super memory that could flash him back that far in time. I hoped you enjoyed this story, look forward to hearing from you all again in the next story!


End file.
